Page 238 of Dukes for Dessert

He nodded. “I remember. Ninety degrees.”

“That was buttresses, not billiards. Receptacles will catch the oil so that it doesn’t fall onto your freshly ironed baize, and the cabinetry to house your cues, maces, and ball box need to—”

“May I?” Azureford’s finger hovered just beneath the prior page.

Carole sighed. She could recognize a no. “Please do.”

Her skin crawled with invisible ants as he slowly paged back through each drawing. Occasionally his lips would quirk or a brow would raise, but he otherwise kept his silence.

“You want to do this the right way, don’t you?” she burst out when she couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer. “You said I could help you with your party. Let me help.”

He glanced up from her sketchbook. “How?”

“Look.” She flipped the inventory journal to a blank page and started to draw. “These walls have a fixed height and length, don’t they? The fireplace is here, and the windows are here and here. We’d rip out the shelves. Presuming cabinetry like… that, and a billiard table like… that, then this is a rough approximation of how I would alter this room to maximize its attributes.”

The duke exchanged her sketchbook for the inventory journal.

She tried to make him see. “You dream of making the best possible impression on your future duchess, and I dream of being allowed to do a project like this just once in my life. To design and decorate as I see fit. This isn’t only our best attempt at making your billiard room be all that it can be, but each of us, too. We’ll grant two wishes at once. Not bad, is it?”

Her heart twisted. He was going to say no. He was still angry about her deception. She had one chance to resolve this. No matter what it took.

“Help me help you…” She took a shaky breath. “…to marry someone else.”

7

Adam sat in the dappled sunlight of the wooden-latticed belvedere in his rear garden and tried to escape into the book in his hand. It was no use. He moved a ribbon to mark his page and glared at the pretty flowers blooming in the Quincys’ garden.

He could be disappointed that Miss Quincy’s sudden interest was due to ulterior motives, but he couldn’t be angry at her. He’d had ulterior motives of his own, did he not? Realizing he’d wished to “practice” with the entire village before removing to the Town he really cared about could not have been any more complimentary than learning the only reason Miss Quincy kept coming over was to retrieve her sketchbook.

Truly, what if anything, had changed? Earring, sketchbook, billiard room... She still wanted something, and so did he. If she could help him reach his goal rather than flail at it awkwardly, what sort of fool would refuse the offer?

He removed his House of Lords diary from the basket by his feet and flipped to the final page. With a pencil, he added:

* * *

Honest

Reciprocates feelings

* * *

to the list of required qualifications for his future bride. He didn’t have feelings yet, but he was annoyed enough with himself and Miss Quincy to imagine how badly he would have felt if he fell in love only to discover the woman he hoped to make his wife was only waltzing with him because it cured her indigestion or some such.

He tossed the pencil and journal back into the basket along with his book. Reading was no good. What he really wished he had his hands on was that sketchbook. He’d only recognized a handful of places—his parlor, the castle entrance hall and the circulating library—but he suspected most of the village had found its way into her little book. With different dressing, of course. Every single scene seemed to involve riotous women making any number of dramatic choices.

For someone as outgoing as Miss Quincy, she’d certainly managed to hide an intense inner world.

“There you are, Your Grace.” Swinton swept into view with a large silver tray, which he placed upon a small wooden table inside the belvedere. “Biscuits, lemonade, and a note from Mr. Paterson.”

Adam’s man of business. He reached for that letter first before the lemonade.

* * *

Your Grace,

I’ve shown the sketch to architects and builders as you requested. Other than enlarging the windows as seen in the illustration, most of the changes are cosmetic, and as such, not structural engineers’ particular strength. They all seemed to find it as fine a suggestion as any.

I took the liberty of sharing the drawing with the same craftsmen who provided proposals for the billiard table. They exclaimed over the use of light, the recessed cabinetry where the library shelves once were, and the intricate lighting system. The design is brilliant. One workman even claimed the billiard table in the drawing almost perfectly matches the design and dimensions of the table in his proposal, making it a perfect match.